Wastelands
by redfox1303
Summary: Mulder's journey through New Mexico, struggles and self-loathing. Post abduction blues. Features Gibson. Disclaimer: Chris Carter owns everything!
1. Chapter 1

Mulder jarred awake, finding himself tangled in his sheets once again. He inhaled deeply trying to regain composure from the panicked nightmare he'd just endured. The New Mexican heat had already begun seeping into the shabby RV; the orange rays creeping between the door and window frames.

He sat slowly upright from the dusty pull-out bed and peeled the damp cotton from his skin. The two filled beds either ends of the trailer were still. Glad he'd not woken the others; he mopped sweat from his forehead and fought to calm his shakiness. His fingers ran across his chest feeling for the Y shaped scar tissue.

"Fuck!" he breathed quietly. Every night was the same horror show.

….

Though Gibson had tried hard to keep out of Mulder's mind, his twisted and tormented nightmares seemed to wake them both on an almost nightly basis.

Gibson remained still in his bunk, trying to detach his thoughts from the images inside Mulder's head. Disturbing as they were, he knew the reality of abduction and was surprised that even now it still shocked him.

He listened as the agent fumbled carefully out of bed; the metal belt buckle clinking as he wriggled into his jeans. It must have been 5am or so but Gibson was sure neither of them would get back to sleep. The door eked on its hinges as Mulder withdrew into the morning air.

….

Outside, a refreshing breeze brushed against his bare skin. Mulder unbuttoned his fly and answered the call of nature. His eyes adjusted to the brightness as he gazed across the desolate landscape.

'Just pissin' into the wind' he thought to himself; this crusade was just that. Since Gibson had revealed to them the truth that the date was set, things felt very grim.

He often questioned what was keeping him out there in the middle of nowhere with no hope in hell of fighting the future. He was losing faith with each passing day. The only strength derived from memories of his precious Scully and son William. He longed to be with them and to spend their remaining years together happily, but knew he could not abandon hope of finding a way to fight back.

Mulder squinted as a rouge wind blew red dust into his eyes.

"Damn desert" he cursed tucking himself back into his boxers. The earthy red dust got just about everywhere in this place. He rustled his hair watching the powdery dirt drift to the floor. Another day in paradise.


	2. Chapter 2

The smell of diesel fumes filled the air as Nokosi road off into the distance. The bike roared against the graveled track as it pulled away.

Gibson watched after his friend, irritated with the fact he himself could not travel freely. He pondered how different life would be had he never entered that chess competition and expose his secrets to the world. Perhaps he could have avoided being man-hunted for the past seven years, and inevitable living out of a motorhome.

He sighed and wandered back inside the aluminum encased living quarters. It was hotter than hell, as per usual.

Mulder was perched at the cramped desk. Various papers and folders decorated the study area and the laptop and cables buzzed away to themselves in scorching heat. They'd been there only two weeks and already the site was unbearable. Gibson felt Mulder curse the aliens for selecting such a humid climate for hovering around in their flying saucers.

Grasping notes in one hand and chewing a pencil with the other, Mulder contemplated the co-ordinates they'd plotted. Through his damaged glasses he noticed Gibson out of the corner of his eye.

"That good, hu?" Gibson didn't have to ask how work was going; he knew the answer in Mulder's frustrated thoughts.

"That good" Mulder repeated sarcastically, chucking the mangled pencil onto the organized chaos of paper. Even that was tinted red with the thick dust that coated everything.

Moments passed as the two of them sat in silence together.

"_How're you doing, Gibson_?" Mulder asked, without moving his lips. He was very much aware of the fact that the profit in front of him, beneath it all was still only a teenage boy. He sympathized with him a lot, knowing the burden he carried must be a constant torment like it were to him.

"I miss my parents a lot" Gibson said a-matter-of-factly. "But then again, we all miss the ones we love…"

His stare looked deep into Mulder, as though admitting he'd seen what was inside him and felt the suffering Mulder felt for Scully and his new-born.

Mulder lifted his head, agreeing "that's why we've gotta' keep going on this, right?"

He flicked the stool from underneath him and made for the open door, brushing Gibson's shaved head affectionately as he passed by.

Christ; it was hot. Mulder stretched his achy muscles feeling his joints click. He vaguely thought about the dried pasta they'd undoubtedly have for dinner that night as his stomach lurched with hunger.

"I miss you, Scully" He spoke to no one but the expanse of desert


	3. Chapter 3

His dreams (when not haunting nightmares) were his only inner sanctuary. Although rarities; Mulder looked forward to indulging in his happiest of retentions. Back to that faithful night that changed everything.

_They'd been here before a number of times; sharing a bed together and holding one another close because of the terror of some crazed serial killer after Scully, or another brush with death too close for comfort. But this time was different. _

_He'd held her as he often did - just drifting into slumber, when she'd turned into him, facing him, eyes filled with her usual marvel. _

_He was about to ask her what was wrong but was interrupted by the delicate kiss she placed on his lips. She let it linger before withdrawing to gaze at him. She was questioning him, testing the water. Well…? _

_They'd kissed before, but in moments of necessity like New Year's, or when so highly fuelled with emotions caught up in some 'end of the line' kind of a scenario it felt the only logical thing to do. But this; this was no such moment, there was no excuse. _

_He was immobilized, still lost in the enjoyment of the haphazard gesture. Just as she began to feel foolish, he met her lips returning the favour. _

_He'd wondered if that was it, a shared kiss and then she'd roll over and fall asleep. But it didn't happen like that. They held together, moved together, breathed into one another as their lips met feverishly again and again._

_His abdomen rushed with a lustrous sensation as he felt himself turn uncontrollably hard beneath his sweats. She pulled away from his mouth and he thought he'd blown it. She must have felt him against her. Embarrassed by his inability to control himself he made to apologise but could find no words. _

_What an arsehole he was. She was clearly disturbed by their most recent case and he'd gone bounding in all guns blazing at the first inkling of prospective 'nookie'. She was his partner, and respectable best friend._

_She went in again for a gentler kiss and he accepted unquestionably. Her soft hands stroked his cheek, brushed his neck and continued southwards above his t-shirt material until reaching an exposed patch of skin between his shirt and pants. He gasped slightly as she moved beneath the waistband of his boxers. It was too much to bear. _

_The gentlest of touch and he was set on fire as she felt him. He grabbed her wrists as though a reflex. He had to stop her, had to make sure she was certain. Mulder was very much aware of the fastly crumbling walls of their mere friendship as it broke through into something powerful, a whole nother level that if reached would change everything between them - on a professional level. Though he knew his respect for her, his feelings for this woman, could never change; only grow – if there were even any more room for growth. All he knew was if they crossed this line, it would change the dynamics._

_"__Are you sure?" He asked, still unsure himself. _

"Mulder!"

The voice jolted him awake as he was painfully thrust back into reality. Nokosi was gesturing enthusiastically from inside the RV. It took Mulder a moment to gain his bearings, realising he'd fallen asleep on a tattered deck chair out the front.

He jumped up as quickly as his stiff legs would allow and winced when his hard on caught against the rough fabric of his jeans. He did some strategic rearranging as he made his way inside the trailer. A little annoyed at himself for falling asleep, and equally annoyed at the kid for interrupting his little fantasy.

"What've you got?" He asked, back and focused.


End file.
